


Broken China Made In Walmart

by josywbu



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: BAMF Peggy Carter, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Minor wounds, Peggy Carter is Tony Stark's Godparent, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:39:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josywbu/pseuds/josywbu
Summary: Parker luck means things in Peter's close proximity tend to break more often than not. It's not a big deal most times but it is when he breaks the only vase Tony has from Peggy Carter.Only, Tony doesn't really agree with him on that and decides to tell him a story about his Aunt Peggy.





	Broken China Made In Walmart

**Author's Note:**

> ““I’m gonna take a guess and say that’s broken” - Tony finds Peter next to an age old vase, that was gift from his aunt Peggy, broken on the ground, with water and flowers everywhere.” (by itsallratherstrange on tumblr)
> 
> It's... basically that and story time about one (1) awesome aunt.

“I’m gonna take a lucky guess here and say that’s broken.”

As soon as Peter looked up he knew that that had been the wrongest thing he could have possibly said. Who the hell had trusted him to look after a kid?

The boy was crouched on the floor next to the smithereens of what used to be a vase, his pants drenched with the water that was pooling around him. The tulips his maid had gotten just two days prior were strewn across the floor, a mess of pollen and petals and mushed leaves.

None of that truly registered with Tony, though, because there was blood, too. Peter’s hands were covered in blood where he was propped up on the floor from bracing his fall. The shards were embedded in his skin and the older man’s stomach coiled at the sight. He had never had a problem seeing blood but apparently he had very many problems seeing this particular kid’s blood.

“I’m so – so s-sorry, Mister- Mister Sta-Stark, sir,” the kid stuttered through trembling lips, glassy eyes still locked on Tony who was getting increasingly worried by the second. “I- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to b-break it. I –“

“Shh,” he shushed, squatting down next to Peter, glad he was still wearing shoes when he heard the glass crunch under his soles. He reached out, mirroring his movements so he wouldn’t scare the kid who looked more and more like a frightened animal. Once he had a hold of the boy, he pulled him up with him and lead him a few steps away.

An undertaking that was a lot easier said than done when you were trying to move a shell-shocked super-teen.

Gently he pried Peter’s hands from where he was grabbing the fabric of his pants and inspected the injury. The blood had certainly made it looked worse than it actually was but he doubted the shards in his hands were a lot of fun either way.

“It’s not that bad,” he told the muted kid with an encouraging smile even though he still felt sick just looking at the blood. “We’re gonna pull them out and clean you up and with your super-healing you’re going to be good as new in no time.”

When there was still no reply he started pulling him towards the kitchen and the first aid kid he stored there. Peter followed without problem, stumbling a little when they came to the halt but never actually making a sound. It was the longest he had ever gone without at least making some kind of noise ever since Tony had met him. He couldn’t help but worry the longer it went on.

Only when he had manhandled the kid into a chair and made sure he wasn’t going to slip out of it before getting a pair of tweezers and some disinfection to clean the wound, did the kid open his mouth.

“B-but what about the vase.”

Tony looked up from cupboard he was rummaging through and frowned. “What about it?”

“It’s – it’s broken,” the kid gasped and it sounded like he had to put everything he had into not breaking out into a sob.

Frankly, it broke Tony’s heart.

“Yeah, I figured that,” he agreed softly, lowering down onto his knees in front Peter and gently turning his left hand who had taken the blunt of the glass. “It’s just a vase, buddy, they break,” he told him, trying to convey with his eyes that he really couldn’t care less about some stupid ceramic as long as Peter was still bleeding.

“I’m going to pull out the shards now. It’s going to sting a bit but we don’t want anything stuck in there when you start healing, alright?”

When the kid didn’t reply and simply kept staring he squeezed his knee with his free hand and repeated. “Is that okay, kid?” Only when he got a shaky nod in return did he start to pull out the pieces one by one.

Peter winced but otherwise didn’t show any sign of pain which made the whole procedure a lot more bearable for Tony who felt a stab through his own skin with every piece he cleaned.

“You told me it was a gift from your Aunt Peggy.” His voice was barely more than a whisper and immediately after the words left his mouth he bit his trembling lip, obviously still forcing back a sob. “And- and I- I bro-broke it.”

He was shaking at that point, tears leaking from his eyes and mixing with the dried blood on his cheek from where he had tried to wipe his eyes with his hands earlier. “I’m so – sorry, Mister Stark.”

Tony shushed him again, surprised how paternal the sound made him feel, how he instinctually reached out to brush the tears away and lowered the tweezers to concentrate on the kid’s distress instead.

“I don’t care about you breaking the vase.” And, surprisingly, he didn’t. Yes, it had been a gift from Peggy Carter but that was so far down on his lists of priorities right now, it didn’t even make the first page.

“I’m going to tell you a story about my Aunt Peggy and that vase,” he decided, settling his hand on Peter’s knee again and waiting until he met his eyes again. “But first you’re going to tell me whether you’re crying over that vase or because you’re in pain. Because you are allowed to cry when you’re in pain but you’re not allowed to cry over a stupid vase.”

That managed to tickle a giggle out of the boy and albeit wet and shaky it was music in Tony’s ears. “Doesn’t hurt too bad,” he sniveled, “but I didn’t wanna make you sad.”

“Then let me get out these shards while telling you about my favorite aunt and I’ll be the happiest. Deal?”

Peter nodded and Tony went back to work.

“Aunt Peggy was my godmother,” he began, “it was my dad’s idea. I think he wanted to have people around his firstborn son who loved Steve Rogers as much as he did and who wouldn’t let him forget his biggest creation. It was,” he swallowed, “hard sometimes to grow up with a dad who was always looking for more than you could give him but Aunt Peggy wasn’t like that at all.”

A smile stretched across his face remembering the fierce redhead who had never minced her words, especially not for Howard Stark.

“Peggy loved me a lot.” It was one of the few things he was truly certain of. “And I think he hadn’t planned for that. For her actually wanting to spend time with me and not comparing me to a dead super soldier and their relationship went downhill from there.” An understatement if he’d ever heard one.

“Peggy didn’t like the way Howard acted and how he treated me, so she told him as much. Frequently. Protected me from his wrath more than once when _I_ broke something of value. She did her best to drive him up the walls of our fancy mansion and she was the best at it. That’s why she got him that vase for Christmas one year.”

 “Sorry, buddy,” he grimaced when the boy winced and a solitary tear slipped from the corner of his eye. “We’re almost done. Do you want me to stop talking?”

“Nuh uh,” he shook his head, smiling bravely, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, “I wanna know about the vase.”

“Okay, kiddie.” He concentrated on plucking another shard from his right hand now before continuing.

“Howard loved everything fancy,” he explained, “Everything was better when it cost a lot of money and things were only really worth having when they had a name everyone knew. The house I grew up in looked more like a museum than anything else and it was equally frightening to just walk through the rooms.”

“He also prided himself on looking like a good guy to the rest of the world.” Key word being _look like_. “So when Peggy Carter, prominent agent and Co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. presented him with a cheap no-name vase during the annual Christmas gathering, basically in front of the whole world or at least in front of everyone who mattered, he had to accept her gift with a big smile and cheek kisses. He was livid.”

Tony chuckled quietly, pulling out the last piece of ceramic and picking up the disinfection.

“This one’s gonna burn a bit but we don’t want any dirt in there once it’s closing,” he warned, “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” came the tight- lipped reply, “Why did your dad keep the vase if he didn’t like it?”

“Oh, believe me he would have loved nothing more than to throw it out,” Tony said with a grin that turned into a sorry grimace when Peter hissed. “Sorry. It’s almost over.”

“He actually hid it in some secret chamber never to be seen again until there was another function and Peggy openly lamented over how she had never actually seen the vase she had gotten him for Christmas and there were a lot of questions about why he wouldn’t want to set it up where everyone could see it.”

“So, whether he liked it or not, Howard had the vase put up on a small table right at the entrance with the order to always keep it clean and to always keep the flowers in it fresh. It was the first thing you saw when you set foot into the mansion and it was a sign of Peggy’s stubbornness and her love to defy the likes of men like Howard. It was the only thing I kept of Howard’s.”

Peter frowned at him, looking frustrated. “So the vase _was_ important to you even though it wasn’t very expensive. I’m _really_ sorry Mister Stark.”

“Sure it was,” he agreed easily, reaching for the gauze to bandage the now clean wound, “But the thing Peggy taught me was that people are always more important than stuff no matter how valuable you think the stuff is. She took off her engagement ring because she accidentally cut my cheek with it one time. Said being engaged wasn’t worth hurting me and started wearing it on a chain around her neck from then on.”

He had finished wrapping the kid’s hands and pulled out a tissue to clean off the residue blood from his wrists and face.

“My point is,” he said, wiping at Peter’s cheek until the red came off, grinning when the boy scrunched up his face in indignation, “she would’ve banned all vases from the house the second someone got hurt because of them. And, yeah, it was a nice token to remember my Aunt Peggy by but I’d rather have you happy and healthy and tell you about her than some stupid old vase that she once touched.”

“So,” Peter cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, “You’re not mad?”

“Nope,” he shook his head and pushed himself back up, cringing when his joints creaked. “You know how much old people love telling stories. And I got to tell one of my favorite stories about Peggy Carter so really I’m glad you broke it. Not so glad you got hurt, though.”

The kid grinned happily, jumping up from the chair, tears and broken vase forgotten. “You are old,” he agreed with a laugh and then, a little more hesitantly asked, “Do you want to tell me more about her?”

“More stories about Aunt Peggy? Gladly, buddy.”


End file.
